


Where There Is a Flame

by RcA



Series: Hearts On Fire [2]
Category: Big Bang (Band)
Genre: Alpha!Seunghyun, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Animal Traits, Animal hybrids, Cat!Daesung, Dog!Seunghyun, Established Relationship, Explicit Language, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mild Sexual Content, Mpreg, Omega Verse, Omega!Daesung, Other Additional Pairings, Polyamory, implied everyone/Daesung, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-06 20:36:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11043861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RcA/pseuds/RcA
Summary: ...someone's bound to get burned.Seunghyun returns from filming in Germany, and just in time. His bandmates have big news that can't wait.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A prequel of sorts to [Fever Pitch](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10450350). Please read that one first.
> 
> Title comes from the song [Try](https://youtu.be/pPtlSF4TlJE) by Pink. After weeks of failing to find a title for this, the song came on the radio a few nights ago and when the chorus hit I thought, _That'll do._
> 
> This whole thing started with what was meant to be a throwaway line in Fever Pitch. I'm not sure it gels 100% with that fic, since it takes place only about 9 months before and you can bet a lot of what happens here would be very heavy on Seunghyun's mind during Fever Pitch. The pitfalls of writing prequels... Still, I wanted to put a different, "shippier" spin on Seunghyun's reasons for being so emotional in the latter half of 2016, reasons not related to his then-upcoming enlistment. Some details have been tweaked for convenience, like Seungri's ramen shop being open earlier in the year, and possibly the length of Seunghyun's stay in Germany. Just try to go with it. lol
> 
> **Disclaimer:** This is a fictional work based on the public personas of real people, over whom I make no claim and to whom I mean no harm.

 

 

 

_(Fever Pitch, Chapter 2)_

 

 _"Where are you going?" Daesung follows after him like a magnet._  
  
_"I have to. The condom will break." Break or slide clean off. And now with the worst of it over, Daesung's pheromones no longer clogging up his thoughts, Seunghyun can see clearly how that could spell bad news for both of them._  
  
_The last thing they need is another pregnancy scare._

 

 

\--

 

 

When Seunghyun makes it home he crashes-- face-first onto his bed, fully clothed, phone wedged in a back pocket of his pants where he'd shoved it just before he'd barrelled through the door, dead on his feet. His rough landing sends his thick comforter blanket puffing up around him, cradling him in an embrace soft and white as clouds.  
   
_Trapping_ him is more like it. He grunts once, all that cushion sending his hot breath right back at him. How dog-tired is he, that he'll consider trading comfort for his ability to _breathe?_  
   
He can't muster up the energy to care. Or move. At all.  
   
And so not even the threat of suffocation is enough to make him turn, the effort it would take to roll his weary body onto his back-- or even just his side-- tragically out of reach.  
   
Fourteen hours on a plane with a squalling child will do that to a person. He'd had snatched what little sleep he could in between the kid's bouts of screaming bloody murder, but it had somehow left him feeling worse than if he hadn't slept at all.  
   
Babies cry. Seunghyun knows this. But _this_ baby... The shrieking had been _hell_ on his sensitive hybrid hearing. He scowls into the blanket at the memory, his furred ears going flat and face twisting up in what he's sure is an ugly expression, his head still throbbing with a headache as dogged as he is.  
   
He closes his eyes and remembers the toddler's tiny, rounded ears and long, curling tail which as the baby had cried had coiled around its father's arm, a young omega male who'd looked as harried by the whole ordeal as Seunghyun had felt.  
   
A monkey hybrid? That would explain a lot. Everyone knows primates are a notoriously noisy lot.  
   
That prehensile tail though... Not like Daesung's tail, flexible enough to twine around Seunghyun's leg when he's got him on his back in bed, but not so dexterous that he can use it like a hand. Daesung's tail helps him with balance and expression and not much else, and he seems content with that.  
   
Although, Seunghyun has found other, decidedly more off-color uses for that tail of his. Daesung had had to put his foot down regarding when and where it was appropriate for Seunghyun to sneak up on him and dig his thumb into that little dip at the base, right where tail meets spine.  
   
" _Not in public_ ," he'd hissed, swatting Seunghyun's hand away. Then, in a voice so small Seunghyun might have had to lean in to hear if he wasn't, you know, a dog: "You _know_ what that does to me."  
   
Seunghyun had stuck out his lip and offered up his best puppy dog eyes, but it hadn't been enough to melt Daesung's icy cold heart. He'd had to learn to keep his hungry hands to himself when not behind closed doors. Seunghyun is an eager puppy and Daesung has the patience of a saint, but getting too handsy in public where there are things like _cameras_ following their every move is, unfortunately, where he draws the line.  
   
Sluggishly, Seunghyun drags his phone from his pant pocket and drops it on the bed. He can be a fitful sleeper. A cracked screen is the last thing he wants to wake up to.  
   
At any rate, The trip from hell is over. It's all behind him now, and the thought eases some of the tension in his temples. He's home. Basking in blessed silence. Maybe he'll wake and find it was nothing more than a bad dream. No headache, no hearing loss, no--  
   
He's out like a light before he even finishes the thought.

 

 

\--

 

 

The sun is low in the sky when Seunghyun wakes, just as it was when he passed out nearly a full day before. He stares down at the date and time on his phone's lock screen in shock. He hasn't slept so soundly since... shit, since the day he left to film his newest movie months ago, probably.  
   
No place like home, indeed.  
   
And what an experience it had been. Three long months he'd been gone, a continent between him and his friends, his bandmates, his _brothers_. It didn't seem to matter much that they'd been short one member; they'd carried on without him, a packed schedule of late spring and early summer fanmeets in Japan going off without a hitch. He'd kept in touch with them near daily and still he'd missed them terribly,  the photos of their activities as four streaming across his feed leaving his heart heavier than he liked to admit.  
   
But such is life, he supposes. He'd been half a world away, not as Choi Seunghyun but as agent Tom Young. He can be two people at once; what he can't do is be in two places at the same time.  
   
Out of Control, they'd called it. Perfect for him, and every bit the action-packed thriller he'd  always dreamed of starring in. High speed car chases and rapid-fire gun fights and short spurts of close combat had left him so stirred up that some nights he didn't know what to do with himself, his blood pumping, mind racing, a restless energy in him rising.  
   
He'd felt unstoppable.  
   
Nevermind that it had all been choreographed, or that the cuts and bruises on his face were only temporary, materializing during morning makeup and washing away at day's end. For Tom Young it had been very real. He'd slipped into the character's skin as easily as any costume change before a big show; getting out of it, however, required a little more work.  
   
So he'd gone out, spent his downtime seeing the sights Germany had to offer in the hopes that it would help him re-enter his own headspace again. From abstract art to selfies at the little cafe a short walk from his hotel where he and his manager had indulged in more than one bottle of their finest, Seunghyun had flooded his Instagram feed in a wild way, the sight of so much new content splashed across his screen bringing him a strange sense of calm.  
   
Because sitting still for too long guaranteed just one thing: that he'd find himself plagued by a restlessness he didn't need, and thoughts of the person he did. Art steadies him and wine sedates him, but nothing settles him better than a night with Daesung in his bed. They don't even have to fuck; the other's presence alone is enough to unwind his jumbled up mind.  
   
They don't _have_ to... but it certainly helps.  
   
In spite of his pervasive loneliness, he'd never really been alone. His manager had been there, as good as glued to his side wherever he went. But Hongil hadn't been the company Seunghyun craved. He'd been companionable, friendly, accommodating... and yet the constant supervision had left Seunghyun feeling like a child under the watchful eye of a caretaker, every bit the baby that Daesung likes to say he is.  
   
A baby, maybe... or a dog on an invisible leash.  
   
Seunghyun frowns at that, rolling onto his back to stare up at his bedroom ceiling, lost in his musings.  
   
He comes from a line dominated by shepherds; a high prey drive makes him prone to bolting without thought, not in fear but in hot pursuit. But sprinting after anything that catches his eye has its pitfalls. It's a miracle he hasn't hurt himself, Jiyong reminds him all the time. Seunghyun agrees.  
   
"I can't always control it," he tells Jiyong. "Or at least, it's really fucking hard to."  
   
"You sound like Daesung bitching about his heats." Jiyong gives him a long-suffering look. Seunghyun's mouth falls open in shock.  
   
"I can't believe you'd joke about that."  
   
At that Jiyong looks properly shamed.  
   
"Look, I know it's hard. I get it sometimes too, the urge to just _run, go, get_. It's just--" He taps a finger against his temple. "Mind over matter."  
   
"You make it sound so easy," Seunghyun mutters.  
   
"Maybe not easy, but... just something you've got to learn to do." A hand lands on his arm, a gentle touch amid the firm words. "I know you can do it, hyung. It gets easier the more you practice." He smiles, his smile sweet and promising. "We'll help you."  
   
And so, with the help of his bandmates, Seunghyun had found ways to focus that energy. It doesn't take much, some days, just a hand on Daesung's shoulder or hooked around his back or looped through his arm as they make their way to and fro, in and out of busy airports and concert halls bustling with so much activity, the contact like a tether. To the casual observer it might look like he's leading Daesung to their next stop. When really, it's Daesung who's leading him.  
   
And if Seunghyun gives the stink eye to every alpha who looks their way with even a sniff of interest, well... _sharing_ has never been his strong point. Besides, as an omega Daesung could use the added protection.  
   
It's just one of many ways he and Seungri take the brunt of Seunghyun's passion, their patience for his pouncing and nipping and playful displays of affection. Seungri's terrier ancestry makes him feisty and easily the most energetic among them. He's not really the type to retreat from any kind of attention, being an alpha and all; it's only Seunghyun's status as hyung that sends him scooting backwards when he finds himself the sudden object of Seunghyun's interest.  
   
Daesung is a different story.  
   
When Seunghyun sets his sights on him, he frequently turns tail and _runs_. Which, frankly, only makes it that much harder for Seunghyun to stop himself, his blood singing with the thrill of the chase-- dog after cat, alpha after omega. What could be better?  
   
He always catches him, in the end. Daesung dips at the waist, his cries of mock distress mixed with laughter making Seunghyun feel positively electric, the current flowing through him concentrated on one thing only: his favorite feline right where he wants him, in his arms.  
   
His arm flops across the bed as he gropes blindly for his phone, blinking away the sticky from still sleepy eyes. The screen is littered with notifications, message upon message from friends and family alike.  
   
Jiyong's had reached him first.  
   
_Hyung! Have you made it back yet?_  
   
He can't help his dumb grin at the flood of messages in their group chat, his bandmates welcoming him back and so eager to see him. His precious little brothers who he hopes missed him even half as much as he did them.  
   
_Hello? Anyone home?_  
   
His friends who... must be wondering why the hell he's been ignoring them all day.  
   
Shit. If he wasn't fully awake before, he is now.  
   
_I don't think he missed us at all. Probably wishes he was still in Germany._  
   
"Bastard," Seunghyun growls down at his phone. Typical Youngbae being cheeky.  
   
_Just kidding, love you hyung! Seoul is a better place with you in it. Can't wait to see you again. Korea welcomes you back!_  
   
_Japan missed you too_ , Daesung adds. _Fanmeets were fun but not the same without you. The energy was a little..._  
   
"Lonely?" Seunghyun finishes for him. So he hadn't been the only one with a heart that felt stretched thin.  
   
_VIPs were wild! They worked us harder than ever!_ And there's Seungri with that unfailing energy and enthusiasm of his. _Hyung, let's go out, all of us together! We want to hear about your movie._  
   
_And get you caught up on what all you missed at the fanmeets. I know you're curious_ , Jiyong slips in not a second later. Fast fingers.  
   
_Hyung? Why aren't you answering?_ Seunghyun can see Seungri's face fall as clearly as if he were in the room with him.  
   
_You scared him off. Way to go, Seungri_ , Youngbae writes. Seungri sends back a crying emoji. _Maybe he's too tired to talk about the movie right now._  
   
_Or too tired to be awake, period. Probably passed out._ Jiyong knows him well.  
   
_Aww. Let the baby sleep._ That's Daesung. Squinting at the screen with bleary eyes, Seunghyun pouts.  
   
_Baby's awake_ , he taps out with sluggish fingers. _Fuck you guys. Don't talk about me like I'm not here._  
   
_He's alive! And cranky as ever._  
   
_Sounds like someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed._  
   
A laughing emoji, is all he gets from Daesung, man of few words.  
   
_Missed you guys so fucking much_ , Seunghyun says, scrubbing a tired hand over a face that feels hot and dry. He needs something to drink-- and by that he means, for once, _water_. _Then I finally make it back in town and first thing I do is crash for--_ he checks the time, does the math _\-- twenty-two hours? What the hell?_  
   
_It's okay, obviously you needed it. Take care of yourself_ , Daesung says with all the caring kindness Seunghyun has come to expect from him.  
   
_Don't sweat it. We've waited like ninety days already. What's one more?_ is Youngbae's reply. _Not that we're not dying to see you, but we aren't going anywhere._  
   
_HYUNG!!!_ Seunghyun flinches like Seungri screamed in his ear. _Dinner tonight? We're all free._ Then, after a long silence: _Right? Everyone? No plans?_  
   
_Tell me when and where and I'll be there_ , Seunghyun types back and throws his phone down on the bed for the blankets to devour.  
   
Peeling himself from the bed takes a more concentrated effort, the button-down he'd worn on the flight back sticking to him all over, folds in the fabric leaving crease marks on his skin. A deliberately long, steamy, _glorious_ shower, a cool glass of water, and a change of clothes later-- and maybe just a tiny dab of cologne he knows Daesung likes, why the hell not-- and he's good to go.  
   
_See you soon._

 

 

\--

 

 

Because no one says where, and because Seungri is a proud puppy always excited to share his new business ventures with his hyungs-- like they haven't all eaten there at least twice already-- they end up at his ramen restaurant. Seunghyun is too happy to see them to care what he ends up shoveling in his mouth. He's not here for the food, he's here for the people.  
   
And they're here for him, he's reminded as they arrive one by one. Just the sight of them has his tail wagging so hard his whole body moves with the motion, but fuck it, he can't bring himself to care. He's a dog hybrid, it's kind of what he does. And he isn't alone; Jiyong, Youngbae, and Seungri are in similar states, ears pricked and tails whipping each other excitedly as they welcome Seunghyun with wide smiles and open arms.  
   
He isn't alone, no. Among these four he's never alone.  
   
And so it goes among them, canine types convening with all the energy and enthusiasm of their animal counterparts. All but Daesung, with his long cat's tail draped low behind him, mostly still. As a cat hybrid, Daesung's tail doesn't _wag_. It lashes like a whip, cutting sharply from side to side with a quick, jerky quality that Seunghyun instinctively knows means bad news.  
   
Daesung wouldn't hurt a fly. But his quiet anger torments Seunghyun worse than any temper tantrum.  
   
His fuzzy cat's ears, the tips just visible above his fluffy brown hair, and a modest curl at the end of his tail is all the sign Seunghyun gets from his animal features that Daesung is as happy to see him as all the others. Though no less sincere, his way of showing affection is... subtler. Is and always has been.  
   
And that suits Seunghyun just fine. He doesn't need grand gestures or glaring signals to read any of them, least of all Daesung. Not anymore.  
   
"Your tail is wagging you," Daesung tells him, grinning with mischief, and that's all he gets out before Seunghyun is dragging him into a crushing hug.  
   
It's so good to be back.  
   
They're there for hours, though Seunghyun doesn't realize it until their server informs them that the restaurant will be closing soon, the passage of time catching him by surprise for the second time that day. He could go for hours more.  
   
Truth be told, he wishes they could all go home together, not just for the night but for the foreseeable future. Buy a villa and live there like family, five guys sharing a flat, like they used to back in the old days when the main reason they didn't live apart was because they simply couldn't afford it.  
   
It feels like a lifetime ago.  
   
"Hyung."  
   
He turns and finds Daesung watching him, his face a little flustered.  
   
"Your hand."  
   
Only then does Seunghyun realize his hand has gone and done what it wanted, has slid over Daesung's hip and closed around his tail, the limb hanging listlessly over the back of Daesung's chair seat. It twitches in his hold.  
   
"Funny," he says, putting on his best innocent face, "I don't remember doing that."  
   
"You're the only one who gets away with that these days."  
   
"Lucky me," Seunghyun replies, and yeah, he knows how he must look and sound right now: a little too smug, a little too pleased with himself. His grip tightens around the tail in his grip and gives it a short stroke, appreciating the fur under his palm, as fine and soft as the hair on Daesung's head and a matching shade of honey brown.  
   
Daesung jerks upright in his seat, his spine straight as a board.  
   
"Hyun--"  
   
"I know, I know." Seunghyun lets his hand fall away. Then, "You've been quiet tonight. Well. Quiet _er_."  
   
"Have I? I'm just listening." Daesung eases back into his chair, tail swinging lazily behind him. "Seungri is doing a fine job of bringing you up to speed on the fanmeets you missed. Not sure there's much left for me to add."  
   
Seunghyun snorts. "Bullshit. He tells a good story, but it's all from his perspective. I want to hear it from yours."  
   
Daesung gives him a strange look.  
   
"I have your letters still," Seunghyun says abruptly, and Daesung's confusion turns to recognition. "Thank you again. They were... they helped."  
   
Youngbae's letter he'd publicized, but it hadn't been the only one he'd received. Daesung, too, had surprised him with handwritten words of encouragement, and while he hadn't explicitly asked for them to be kept secret, Seunghyun had known that discretion was the way to go. Once a private person, always a private person.  
   
So the letters had gone back in their envelopes, their words jotted down in smooth, black ink for his eyes and his alone. Just how Daesung would have wanted it.  
   
Daesung shrugs and turns back to his empty ramen bowl, tracing the rim of it with one finger. "I thought they might. Well, I _hoped_ they would, anyway. Letters are a nice surprise, aren't they? They're special somehow."  
   
Seunghyun hums in agreement. "A lost art if you ask me."  
   
Daesung doesn't reply. He busies himself with wiping his wet finger on a napkin, so Seunghyun blurts out the next thing that comes to mind.  
   
"Speaking of art... Maybe I'll frame them and hang them at home." He grins, not unkindly. "They'd be right at home among the rest of my collection."  
   
_That_ gets Daesung's attention.  
   
"Ouch, hyung," he wheezes, his whole face scrunching up in embarrassed laughter. "That was cruel! Good thing you didn't mean it."  
   
"Who says I didn't mean it? Maybe I did."  
   
"You did not."  
   
"It could be a collage of sorts. I could arrange them so that--"  
   
Daesung's eyes crinkle until they disappear, that brilliant smile of his takes over, and Seunghyun stops talking.  
   
Because, _god_ , did Seunghyun miss that sight. He has to grab the sides of his seat to keep himself from gathering Daesung up in his arms and embarrassing them both in a public place.  
   
The seat cushion compresses under his hands. His knuckles turn white.  
   
Daesung continues, unaware of his plight, "Alright, alright. Seriously though, don't do that. They're just letters, hyung. Put them on your nightstand or something if you have to."  
   
Confusion loosens Seunghyun's grip. "My nightstand?"  
   
"So they'll be the first thing you see when you wake up," Daesung says cutely. Then he covers his face with his hands and says, "Just not on your walls. _Please_."  
   
Seunghyun is about to reply when Jiyong stands suddenly.  
   
"Restroom. I'll be back," he says and starts forward.  
   
But he doesn't get far, stopping first at Seunghyun's side and slapping a heavy hand onto his shoulder. He sways a bit when he leans in, his lips grazing the edge of Seunghyun's ear.  
   
"Hey, hyung," he says, the wine he's been nursing all evening heavy on his breath. "We're going to Daesung's after. Come with? There's something we need to talk about."  
   
"Everyone? Daesung's?" Seunghyun splutters. Now _that's_ unusual. "We can't just do it here?"  
   
Jiyong shakes his head, a sober look settling over his face.  
   
"Not here."  
   
And with that he's gone. Seunghyun watches him shuffle away, perplexed, until he disappears around a corner.  
   
He turns sharply to Daesung.  
   
"We're going to your place after?"  
   
Daesung's entire demeanor changes, suddenly uneasy.  
   
"Did Jiyong say that?"  
   
"Just now, on his way to the toilet."  
   
The ears atop Daesung's head swivel to the sides, a signal Seunghyun has come to know means he's thinking hard and fast.  
   
"There's just something we need to talk about. Band business," he says slowly."This isn't really the place for that sort of thing. That's all."  
   
"What, is this classified intel?" Seunghyun jokes, pretending not to notice how spooked Daesung has become all of a sudden. "You know I just got back from filming a movie in which I play a secret agent, right?"  
   
The laugh Daesung gives him is tense. "Out of one movie and into another?"  
   
"Sure seems like it," Seunghyun grumbles and takes a long drink of his own wine, emptying the glass. What the fuck? There shouldn't be any secrets between them.  
   
Jiyong returns just as the check arrives. He and Seungri make a grab for it at the same time.  
   
All hell breaks loose.  
   
"It's my restaurant!" Seungri shouts, "Let me get it!"  
   
"You may be the owner but you're still our maknae. It wouldn't be _right_ ," Jiyong snaps, giving the checkbook a vicious tug. "Let go!"  
   
Youngbae just sits back and grins, clearly entertained. He catches Seunghyun's eye.  
   
"Dinner _and_ a show."  
   
Watching his friends squabble is fun and all, but to Seunghyun it's also an opportunity. His hand finds its way back to Daesung, coming to rest on a warm thigh. The muscle in his leg jumps under his hand as Seunghyun follows the inseam of his pant leg up, up, fingers toying with the denim a scant few inches away from where they really want to be.  
   
He knows how this would play out if they were somewhere private, where curious eyes couldn't reach them. Daesung would inch his legs apart for him, would make room for his hand to climb higher until his palm cradles him, cups him. He wants to get Daesung so hard and hot that he can't help the way his hips jump under his touch, rising to meet his hand. Giving him his touch where they _both_ want it.  
   
A stirring below jerks him out of his fantasy. Shit, that backfired on him. It's definitely been too long.  
   
"Just let me do this, hyung! My place, my treat," he hears shouted from across the table.  
   
Daesung flashes him a tight smile but doesn't open his legs for him-- in fact he closes them around his hand, closing the lid firmly on that fantasy.  
   
Of course. Nothing he hadn't expected. Still, the rejection still smarts a bit; Daesung jerks in his seat at the sharp pinch Seunghyun gives him, shooting him a stern look.  
   
"Seungri! Didn't anyone ever teach you to listen to your elders? Hand it over already!" Jiyong laughs, rifling through his pockets with the hand not holding the check. Probably going for his renowned black card.  
   
" _Sorry_ ," Seunghyun mouths to Daesung, petting the place where he'd pinched him in apology-- well, as best as he can with his hand trapped like it is between thighs that are thick and strong.  
   
Daesung takes a long drink of water and lets him go, clearly intent on ignoring him and his misbehaving fingers.  
   
Seunghyun takes back his hand with a guilty grin. He knows that was petty. He also knows Daesung has already forgiven him, even if the silent treatment says otherwise. It's good to have friends who are so understanding.  
   
There's a triumphant cry and a flurry of movement. Seungri holds the checkbook high, staring at Jiyong and a snickering Youngbae with wild eyes, jaw set in defiance.  
   
"Look, you don't want me to pay? Fine, I don't. I'll get the meal comp'ed." He snaps his fingers. "Like that. Easy. No money out of my pocket."  
   
Youngbae gasps, a hand flying to his mouth. "Taking from the business? But what about your employees? They need to eat too." He shakes his head as if disappointed. "For shame, Seungri."  
   
Seunghyun grins. He knows what comes next. Seungri is smart enough to know when he's being baited, but passionate enough about his startup to fall for it anyway. At his side Daesung shakes with silent laughter, and Jiyong too wears an expectant look.  
   
Seungri turns to Youngbae, appalled.  
   
"They'll still get paid!" he insists, his floppy ears drooping impossibly low.  
   
Hook, line, and sinker.  
   
"Just a little less than usual, right?"  
   
"God, what do you all take me for, some kind of criminal? My employees get paid good wages and I've always made sure to--"  
   
Seunghyun leans over the table and plucks the check right out of his hand.  
   
"Wha--" Seungri squeaks in surprise, his tirade cut short.  
   
"Sorry little one. This one's on me," Seunghyun says with a note of fondness he couldn't hide if he tried. "What kind of hyung would I be if I let our youngest pay?"  
   
"That's what I said," Jiyong huffs.  
   
"But I like treating you guys," Seungri says, turning to him and-- damn, those puppy dog eyes are deadly.  
   
"So do I," Seunghyun fires back. "And this is my coming home celebration, so my treat. I love you but you're not taking that away from me." And with that he bops Seungri over the head with the checkbook and sinks back into his seat.  
   
Seungri stops, stunned, and the look of shock on his face plunges the rest of them into peals of laughter.  
   
"Throwing money around like it's nothing. Must be a Seunghyun thing," Daesung says when the laughter has died down.  
   
They're back to teasing, then. Seunghyun answers him with a smile and a fleeting glance-- then does a doubletake. A good laugh always lights Daesung up, that smile of his shining brighter than sunlight, but this time even his skin seems to glow with it. Seems to glow with _something_. Seunghyun can't quite put his finger on what.  
   
He smiles and reaches for his wallet.  
   
"Must be."

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

 

Seunghyun steps smoothly from the van and gazes up at Daesung's house looming before him. His bandmates bound over to him, as boisterous as five guys reuniting for the first time in months should be-- and it suddenly strikes him as strange, to be here like this. He doesn't think they've ever been here together, all five of them at once. It's hard enough to draw Daesung out of his home on his days off, harder still to get him to play host to more than one of them at a time. After all, three's a crowd. And when it comes to his privacy and personal space, he can be... surprisingly guarded.  
   
Seunghyun doesn't quite get it. What good is having a big home if you're the only one in it?  
   
His living space isn't exactly modest either, but he fills his empty spaces with art. Paintings adorn the walls, sculptures occupy the floorspace, and from the ceilings there hang special spotlights to illuminate it all. His works of art have lives of their own and personalities to match. He may live alone, but it isn't lonely. With every corner he turns, every hall he walks, he feels like he's kept company by the creativity of countless artists.  
   
As they make their way to the door, Seunghyun trailing behind with lazy steps, he watches his bandmates with a fondness he can't contain. There's no missing how they all flock to Daesung, tails wagging, Seungri all but leading him up the path to his own home while Jiyong and Youngbae take to the flanks.  
   
It's not exactly an unusual sight. As an omega among alphas, Daesung has that uncanny ability to draw them in depending on where he is in his cycle. They're used to it by now, the strange gravity he exerts on them. They swing out far for a time but always circle back, nothing but proximity and a little _eau de pheromone_ needed to pull them in, whether he means to or not. All of them at once if he isn't careful. It can get a little complicated.  
   
He won't admit it to anyone, but when under Daesung's influence Seunghyun suspects he's the weakest of them all.  
   
So why doesn't he smell anything?  Jiyong, Youngbae, Seungri... They're acting like he's just come into season. But Daesung's last heat should have been weeks ago. He should be well in the clear by now.  
   
He cocks his head to one side and observes. Jiyong's arm hooked around his broad neck. Youngbae's guiding hand on the small of his back. Seungri's fingers curled around his wrist, dragging him up the last few steps to the door while Daesung grins and tries to keep up.  
   
"Tries" being the key word. There's no keeping up with a terrier.  
   
To anyone else this might look like a pack of dogs drooling over their next conquest, a cat cornered by starving canines. Of course, they'd be wrong. Daesung accepts them, his long tail swinging behind him with a kind of easy contentment, a comfortable familiarity many years in the making. There's no fear here. The hybrid influence is strong, but their bond is stronger.  
   
In two months they'll have been going for ten years strong; already he's looking forward to ten years more.  
   
Not one to be left out, Seunghyun lifts a hand and rests it on Daesung's nape. Daesung doesn't turn, but his furry ears swivel back and focus on him.  
   
"Just completing the set," Seunghyun offers as explanation.  
   
That finally gets him to turn. Just enough that Seunghyun can make out how, loved from every direction, Daesung smiles.

 

 

\--

 

 

"So what's this all about?" he says once inside, after accepting the glass of wine Daesung hands him. "Is this the first time we've all been here together?"  
   
"Is it?" Youngbae takes one too and nods his thanks to Daesung.  
   
Seunghyun lifts his glass as if in a toast. "Special occasion."  
   
"I think you're right." The grin Jiyong wears is crooked. "Daesung never invites us over unless..."  
   
"Unless?" he prompts, giving him an expectant look.  
   
"Unless he needs something from us. If you know what I mean." He waggles his brows up at Daesung but it doesn't last-- a moment later he's collapsed over the arm of the couch, hiding his face and failing to quiet his giggles. Yes, _giggles_.  
   
Daesung sighs. "Hyung, really."  
   
Jiyong's grin when he comes back up isn't the least bit contrite. "I'm just saying! Feels like the only part of your house I ever see is your bedroom."  
   
Daesung's face pinches up like Jiyong attacked him-- not unlike his reaction to Seunghyun back at the restaurant when he'd gone over his plans for his letters. But this time there's no laughter to go with it. Seunghyun doesn't know what to make of it.  
   
"Hyung, come on. It's not funny," Daesung says faintly.  
   
"Be nice," Youngbae warns. Then, in a lower voice, "This isn't really the time for jokes like that."  
   
To Seunghyun's utter confusion, Jiyong actually appears remorseful, looking down and picking at his nails while Daesung takes a seat beside him.  
   
Seunghyun stares, the squeaking of leather as the couch takes Daesung's weight whisking him away and depositing him right in the middle of a memory... to the last time he'd been on that couch and had heard that distinctive sound.  
   
It had ended with Daesung on his back, Seunghyun's head between his legs, his hand hard at work covering what his mouth couldn't. It had been a couple of nights before he left for Germany. He and Daesung had been hanging out, joking around and having a good time as usual. Then they'd uncorked the 2006 vintage cab he'd brought along for them both to try-- the year of their beginning as Big Bang-- and the rest is a bit of a blur.  
   
There'd been something _else_ he'd wanted to fit between those legs, something he'd wanted to give Daesung more than the heat of his mouth, but Daesung gets finicky about letting any of them inside him outside of his heats. That he'd balked at a single finger slipping into him had told Seunghyun all he needed to know: he wasn't in the mood.  
   
"Sorry," he'd said, squirming away half-sitting up and wiping strands of hair from his face. "I'll blow you next."  
   
"Okay." Seunghyun had shrugged and pushed him back to the cushions, guiding him into his open mouth and sucking him down like it was the last taste he'd get in months. Because it _was_.  
   
He blinks back to the present. Daesung fidgets. His tail tip moves in little spasms. Sharp, small motions. He's anxious about something.  
   
"So... there was something you wanted to tell me? News?" he asks, looking around the room, jumping from one unsmiling face to another. Their silence is thick and heavy and downright fucking oppressive and Seunghyun hates it already.  
   
"Yeah," Youngbae murmurs. "We thought it'd be better if we talked about it here." Which tells him absolutely nothing.  
   
"It's the anniversary, isn't it? More plans?" Seunghyun tries, eager. They'll be starting a new tour. And there's been talk of organizing some kind of exhibition, an art gallery of sorts. It was his idea. They still need to work out the details, but already the excitement is building. He'd given it a lot of thought during his downtime in Germany.  
   
"Ah," Youngbae starts, at the same time Jiyong says, "That's not exactly it."  
   
Anxiety coils low in Seunghyun's gut. A sense of foreboding. And he's always had good instincts.  
   
"We're not... Are we..." He doesn't want to say it, can't even bring himself to speak the word. _Disbanding_.  
   
Maybe they've decided it's finally time to tackle this. Time to talk about it. Time to _end_ it.  
   
Ten years. They've had a good run. Better than most. It wouldn't be right to pitch a fit over the others finally wanting to call it quits. And anyway, his military service starts next year. In _under_ a year. It's as good a time as any to... go out with a bang.  
   
His throat closes up at the thought.  
   
Youngbae studies him. "Are we what?"  
   
"You know." Seunghyun takes a swig of his wine, finding it suddenly bland. It burns its way down and finally the lump in his throat moves aside enough for him to force out, "Pulling the plug."  
   
" _No_ ," Jiyong leaps to his feet in his rush to correct him, and all around the room he sees similar expression of alarm. " _No_ , hyung. Big Bang isn't going anywhere."  
   
"Don't worry," Youngbae says, offering him a lopsided grin. "There are no plans for disbandment. Zero. None."  
   
"That word," Seungri groans, "Did you have to? Just hearing it makes me... ugh."  
   
_You and me both_ , Seunghyun thinks.  
   
Youngbae reaches over and claps a friendly hand onto his shoulder. "Ten years, right? Let's make it twenty."  
   
"Or thirty. Thirty sounds good," Seunghyun says with a cheeky grin.  
   
Seungri laughs. "Are we gonna be Big Bang until we're old men?"  
   
"Who knows," Jiyong says, sitting back. "All I know is there's still a future for us, somehow." He gives Daesung a sidelong glance. "Years ahead of us."  
   
"Good," Seunghyun says, dropping his gaze into his wine and willing the fear away.  
   
"Although..." Jiyong turns to Daesung, whose voice has been missing from this conversation, Seunghyun is just now realizing. "Daesung. You should probably take it from here."  
   
That's when Seunghyun notices something else. Something conspicuously missing from the table between them.  
   
"Where's yours?" he blurts out.  
   
Daesung looks up, surprised.  
   
"My what?"  
   
"Your glass. You didn't get one?" Seunghyun clarifies, raising his own. And then another thing occurs to him. "You didn't drink at dinner either..."  
   
"Oh, that’s--" Daesung waves him off with a smile, but it's wrong somehow, his lips pulled too tight. "It's nothing. Just not in a drinking mood tonight."  
   
Daesung? Not in the mood to drink wine?  
   
"You're always in the mood for wine. You _love_ wine."  
   
Daesung's teeth dig into his lip. "Not tonight."  
   
"Oh, for fuck's sake--" He stands, snatches up the bottle and goes all the way into the kitchen for a clean glass. He pours when he returns. Pushes the drink into Daesung's folded hands. "Here."  
   
"Ah." Eyes wide, Daesung pulls his hands back, holding them to his chest. "No, I'm not--"  
   
"It doesn't feel right, drinking without you. Here, at your house. Please?" Seunghyun bumps the glass against his knuckles, intent on him taking it. He doesn't know _why_ he needs to see him take this, he just... _does_.  
   
"I really don't want it."  
   
"Pretty please? With a cherry on top?"  
   
The others are watching, their silence unsettling. They should have joined in by now. They should be poking Daesung, digging a finger into his ribs until he doubles over in ticklish laughter and gives in. It's just a glass of wine. What's the big deal?  
   
Persistence pays off. Daesung takes the glass with a sigh. Lifts it to his face and swirls the dark liquid inside. Sets its delicate rim against his lips and breathes in its fragrance: notes of blackberry, caramel, roast coffee and toasted oak.  
   
Then sets it down without tasting even a sip.  
   
Seunghyun frowns. There's that sinking feeling again.  
   
Daesung stares at the tabletop, eyes glued to its polished surface.  
   
"I can't, hyung. I can't drink this."  
   
He wets his lips and speaks-- or tries to, his voice breaking pitifully on its way out.  
   
"I'm..."  
   
He lifts a hand and places it gently over his middle.  
   
"Not feeling well?" Seunghyun tries. "If you're sick then just say so. I'm not gonna treat you like you're some contagion." He musters up a smile and adds, "Though it's not like you to go out without a mask."  
   
"Sick? Feels like it." Daesung makes a pained face, a weak laugh finds its way out. His hand on his stomach shifts, slides a few inches lower until it's over his abdomen, fingers curled in his shirt. "But that's not what I need to tell you." Then, under his breath, " _Fuck, this is hard_."  
   
Seunghyun waits, anxious for reasons he can't explain, his stomach doing somersaults inside him. He sets his wine down, his appetite for it gone.  
   
"My heat is late."  
   
Seunghyun stares.  
   
"I don't think... I need to tell you why."  
   
_No_.  
   
"No. No fucking way."  
   
Three sets of eyes turn to him. But not Daesung's. His are locked on the table, lost somewhere in its dark surface. Anything to avoid looking up at him, he realizes.  
   
"You're shitting me."  
   
"Hyung..."  
   
The laughter that bubbles up in him is a touch hysterical, beyond his control. It feels awful coming up and out, like being sick in the sink after too much drink.  
   
"Good one, guys. Real funny," Seunghyun says. Except it's fucking not. Nothing about this is funny. They shouldn't joke about shit like this. Especially not with him.  
   
"It's not a joke," Daesung says, sounding hurt.  
   
Seunghyun swears and drops his head into his hands, rubbing at his temple where he feels a headache stirring, a stab of pain behind his right eye. He knows he shouldn't but he reaches for his glass anyway, drains it in one go.  
   
"Have you been checked?"  
   
"I used a test. The at-home kind," Daesung answers in a voice that's small and thready.  
   
"And?"  
   
"Positive," he says, voice dropping to barely a whisper.  
   
Seunghyun scrubs a rough hand over his face. Takes a deep breath. Says as calmly as he can, "Maybe it was wrong? Faulty? Broken, fuck, I don't know."  
   
"I don't think so."  
   
"Wouldn't hurt to try again. Try another."  
   
"It won't change anything."  
   
"You don't know that."  
   
"Yes, I do!" Daesung cries, snapping at him in a shrill voice. "You really think I would stop at just one? For something like this? I used-- fuck, I don't know, four? Five? They all said the same thing."  
   
_No_.  
   
"I'm fucking pregnant."  
   
**_No_**.  
   
"I'm sorry, hyung. I'm so sorry."  
   
Seunghyun wants to _sob_. He wants to scream and cry, _fuck_ , he probably will, he always does and they know it.  
   
He just manages to choke out around the tangle in his throat, the words catching inside like thorns, "What are you apologizing to _me_ for?"  
   
He knows why, of course. And he thinks Daesung does too.  
   
"I didn't mean for this to happen."  
   
"Of course you didn't," Seunghyun says. Then, because he's a fool and a mess and he can't stop himself, "So much for that breakthrough in birth control you've been waiting on." As a cat hybrid, condoms are his only real option. That or, of course, complete abstinence. A near impossible task for one of his kind.  
   
Daesung doesn't reply, just purses his lips with something like regret.  
   
_Fuck_ , Seunghyun thinks through another wave of pain, his skull feeling two sizes too small. They've been so _careful_ all these years. What happened while he was gone?  
   
What a stupid question. He knows what happened.  
   
He shoots upright, ears laid back as he snarls, "Which one of you _fuckers_ did this?"  
   
Jiyong, Youngbae, and Seungri all draw back at the same time.  
   
"We don't know," Youngbae says with an unsettling calm, and-- that is _not_ the answer Seunghyun was expecting.  
   
"You don't _know_?" He can't believe he's hearing this. "Who spent his heat with him?" He turns to the person whose voice matters most in all this. "Daesung?"  
   
"They all did," Daesung says softly.  
   
" _All at once_?"  
   
"No. It started with Seungri," Daesung explains. "But he couldn't stay..."  
   
"I took his place later that day." Jiyong steps in, ears low in distress but his gaze resolute and strong. "And then the next day Youngbae."  
   
Seunghyun sees red.  
   
"It took all three of you to equal one of me?" he says, feeling cruel. Because when he agrees to help Daesung with his heat, he _stays_. Wild horses couldn't drag him away. But the others...  
   
He wants to feel flattered. But all he really feels is _left out_. While he was away on the set of a movie, counting down the days until he could have Daesung at his side again, in his _bed_ again, they were _working him over in shifts_.  
   
"We happened to be available when he needed us, just... at different times. It worked out in the end," Youngbae says, sensible as ever. "We took care of him, hyung. Daesung got what he needed when he needed it."  
   
_Since you weren't around_ , Seunghyun hears.  
   
"I know what you're thinking," Jiyong says, reaching for him. He jerks back until just out of reach.  "It's not like we left you out on purpose. You were away filming a movie. Halfway across the world!"  
   
"I know where I was. I don't need you to remind me," Seunghyun grits out. Problem was, the whole time he'd been there his heart had been here.  
   
Jiyong gives up on trying to reach him, a scowl etched on his pretty face. But Seunghyun isn't done-- not even close.  
   
"All these years-- almost ten years! And this has never happened! Daesung and I are always careful. Always!"  
   
"You think we're not?" Jiyong screeches-- and it gives Seunghyun some satisfaction to see him sharing some of his anger.  
   
"I don't know what to think! I go away for a few months and all of a sudden--" He throws his hands in the air, sudden and violent. "What, did you fucking forget to put on a condom?"  
   
_Or did you just decide not to?_ Seunghyun almost says, the insidious thought creeping in. Daesung has never let him inside him without one. Maybe the same rules don't apply to the others.  
   
"Of course not. I can't believe you'd even think that," Jiyong snaps. "They're not one hundred percent effective, you know that. Maybe one had a tear in it or something, who the fuck knows."  
   
Seunghyun throws himself from his seat and whirls around, pacing the room, needing to move-- for all that he missed them before, needing to be _away_ from them for just a minute, his blood boiling.  
   
What does this mean? For Daesung? For Daesung and him? For the five of them? For Big Bang?  
   
He pours himself another glass; it goes down like water.  
   
"We knew you'd take it hard," he hears, distantly. "Which is why we brought you here. But we wanted to tell you in person. Thought you deserved that much, at least."  
   
"I know you're upset. I know that what you have with Daesung is specia--"  
   
He whips around so fast his feet can't keep up and he falls right into Youngbae, who'd stood and come after him.  
   
" _Don't_ ," he warns, getting up in his face, spitting mad, "Don't you fucking say it."  
   
"Okay, I won't then." Youngbae puts his hands up.  
   
"Was it you? I bet it was you," Seunghyun growls, rushing at him and hauling him in by the collar of his shirt. "What'll Hyorin think? Wonder how she'll take it when she hears you knocked up your bandmate."  
   
Youngbae's girlfriend has always been on the fence about his arrangement with Daesung. She has omega friends; she understands their needs. They've worked it so that Youngbae is Daesung's last resort, reserved for those desperate times when none of the others can answer his call. Nothing more to it than that. No strings attached.  
   
Well, until now.  
   
The others charge in, surrounding the two of them.  
   
"Hyung, stop it, please," Seungri cries, dropping both hands to his arm and tugging. Seunghyun shrugs him off.  
   
"Fuck off. We don't know whose it is yet," Youngbae spits, shoving at him. There's a flame of anger in his eyes, a heat that wasn't there before, and Seunghyun wants to fan it, wants to see it grow, wants someone else in this room to be as enraged as he is. He can't stand to be alone in this anger, in this _pain_.  
   
"Or maybe it was you," he snarls, whirling to face Jiyong. "You love cats, don't you? You're _obsessed_ with them." Among the five of them Jiyong's love for all things feline is unrivaled.  
   
Jiyong gapes at him. "Because I happen to have one? You're really reaching now."  
   
"Ai isn't enough for you?"  
   
"Oh for fuck's sake-- you need to take a seat and _calm the fuck down_ ," Jiyong snaps, eyes blazing.  
   
Seunghyun can't just _calm down_. They don't understand what this means to him. _They don't understand._  
   
Youngbae pins him with a scathing glare, chin upturned where Seunghyun still holds him by his shirt.  
   
"What's your problem, anyway? So what if it's mine, or Jiyong's, or Seungri's. Why's this so earth-shattering to you?" His eyes search Seunghyun's face. "Daesung's having a baby; he's not _dying_. You're acting like it's a death sentence but we told you already, this isn't the end of anything. We'll figure something out."  
   
He has no idea, does he? He thinks he knows, but he doesn't. He's as clueless as Seunghyun was when all this began, before he had ten years to learn what makes Daesung light up in laughter, what makes him tear up with emotion, what makes him clam up with quiet anger, what makes him cry out in abandon as he comes undone under his hands. Ten years to learn how much Daesung means to him and how he wishes he could finally work up the courage to fucking _do something_ about it already.  
   
"You wouldn't get it," he says, scowling.  
   
"He's not yours, you know. He's not any of ours."  
   
_He's all of ours,_ Seunghyun thinks through the red screen of his rage. _But he's mine most of all._  
   
He'd wanted him to be, anyway. This... complicates things.  
   
"Hyung, don't, _don't_. Put him down, please," Daesung says, stepping in at last. "Don't fight. It's not their fault." Even as he's inching toward them, one hand outstretched, he doesn't seem to realize how his other hovers protectively over his belly.  
   
Seunghyun sees it though.  
   
_Not their fault?_ He chokes back a bitter laugh. No, it's his fault for fucking _leaving_ when he knew Daesung's heat was due to start soon. He could have pulled some strings. Could have delayed his arrival in Germany for a few days. Maybe. It might have been enough to prevent all this from happening.  
   
Or maybe it still would have happened, but it would have been him. A part of him wishes it had been. Seunghyun counts the months in his head quickly. He'll be starting his enlistment shortly after the baby is born.  
   
His heart sinks. _The baby._  
   
"I still can't fucking believe--" His lip curls. He shakes Youngbae before releasing him roughly. " _Fuck_. You weren't careful enough."  
   
So it may be his fault, he'll take the blame, but his fury still needs a target and he's going to take it out on at least one of them, maybe all of them if necessary.  
   
Because he certainly can't take it out on Daesung. Never Daesung.  
   
"This again? Look, maybe _you're_ the one with the problem," Youngbae bites back. "Might want to get yourself checked. I know it's a sensitive topic and all, especially for an alpha, but hey, if there aren't enough swimmers in the pool--"  
   
It isn't until pain explodes in his hand that he realizes he's pulled back a fist and slugged Youngbae hard. Something hard hits him in return before Youngbae lurches back, staring down in shock at his own fist while his his feet carry him away, away before Seunghyun can strike a second time.  
   
At that exact moment three more bodies fly at them.  
   
"Break it up!" Seunghyun hears, while in his ear someone hisses, "Hyung, get ahold of yourself!"  
   
"Don't fight, don't _fight_ \--" Daesung repeats like a prayer, hands hovering everywhere but never making contact, like he doesn't know if it's safe to touch. Seunghyun hurls himself back, putting feet between them. He _isn't_ safe to touch, not right now, not when he doesn't know what the press of another's skin to his might prompt him to do.  
   
But there's still Jiyong and Seungri to contend with.  
   
"Get the fuck away from me, don't touch me!" he roars, his body going on without him, twisting viciously, hands clenching into fists and swinging, heaving, thrashing against the crush of bodies against his, doing everything in his power to shake free of the hands trying to hold him down.  
   
Get away _get away **get away.**_  
   
Seungri loses his footing and hits the floor. Seunghyun barely registers the look of shock he turns on him, wide eyes set in a face that's gone the color of ash.  
   
A well-placed shove to the ribs sends Jiyong careening backward, stopping only when he collides with a wall.  
   
"What the hell!" he wheezes, clutching at his side, "You're out of control!"  
   
He is, isn't he? He's never felt so out of control as he does now.  
   
This isn't the set of a movie though. This is _real_. There'll be no director to end the scene, no makeup artist to rush in and touch up the marks on his face-- or wipe them away. His jaw throbs where Youngbae hit him, and he wonders if he's earned himself a bruise he'll wear for weeks, turning to makeup not to create the injury but to cover it up.  
   
He thinks suddenly of the omega on the plane, embarrassed and dismayed while a cabinful of passengers had glared daggers at him and his screaming son.  
   
_That could be Daesung pretty soon_ , the thought comes unbidden, _and he's nowhere near ready for it._  
   
There's a muffled sound of pain, and that _voice_ \--  
   
It brings Seunghyun back to his senses just in time for him to make out Daesung staggering away, both arms wrapped tightly around his middle, face turned to the floor. Just when Seunghyun thinks his legs are going to give out, Youngbae catches him, steadying him.  
   
He pauses to survey the damage, breathing hard.  
   
And then it hits him, what he's just done.  
   
"Daesung," he says in a voice thick with regret, one hand reaching in apology. "I'm so--"  
   
Daesung shies away from his touch, ears flat and tail puffed up in what can only be one thing: _fear_.  
   
Seunghyun grinds to a halt, everything in him stopping all at once-- he can't breathe, can't think, can't speak. Even his heart seems to stop beating, the muscle gone cold and tight in his chest. Seunghyun has seen that look on him before countless over the years, but never directed at him. Never him.  
   
He has no one to blame but himself.  
   
His rage fizzles out. In its absence he feels weak, washed out, his scattered thoughts wispy and thin and impossible to grasp. On shaky legs he wobbles over to a chair and collapses in it, not caring that the others are staring, watching him like he's a fucking _wild animal_.  
   
_As they should. I'm out of control, remember?_  
   
He buries his face in his hands.  
   
"Fuck me," he breathes. He _attacked_ them. Like some rabid beast, like a dog that should be taken out back and put down. And for what?  
   
_What's wrong with me?_  
   
"I'm sorry," he chokes out. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do-- to hurt-- I just--"  
   
"It's okay, hyung." That's Seungri's voice over him, Seungri's hand on his shoulder, his touch more tentative than Seunghyun's ever known, but still him.  
   
He sneaks a peek at them over the tops of his fingers. Daesung is back on the couch where he'd started, Jiyong and Youngbae on either side of him, propping him up, though he doesn't seem to need their help. They're watching him with concern, eyes darting down to his belly and back up just as quickly, as if afraid to be caught looking.  
   
Guarding him, Seunghyun realizes. From _him_.  
   
"Don't look at me like that," he moans in pain when Jiyong pins him with a pointed stare.  
   
"Are you done, then?" Jiyong's tongue is sharp as ever. "I thought you'd take this hard, but I never imagined you'd..." He turns to Daesung. "You okay? Daesungie?"  
   
"I'm okay. He just surprised me," Daesung says in a voice so faint Seunghyun can scarcely make it out... but he knows the sight of those familiar words forming on those lips by now. It's Daesung's favorite thing to say, has been ever since the day they first met. _I'm okay. I'm okay._ He's always okay, even when he's obviously not.  
   
Seunghyun could probably learn a thing or two from him.  
   
"You're having a baby," he says.  
   
"And you're acting like one," he hears, and _fuck_ , leave it to Jiyong to give it to him straight precisely when he needs it the least. "Are you done?"  
   
He stares down at his empty wine glass. And beside it, Daesung's full one, sitting innocently on the table where he'd set  it down earlier. Untouched, undisturbed. At least now he knows why.  
   
"This isn't even about you. You're not the only one blindsided by this... unexpected turn of events. And you're not the one who has to deal with it."  
   
"For what it's worth," Daesung says, "It's not like we were keeping it from you for long. A few days maybe. It's still new to me. New news." He blinks, looking a little lost. "It's all still setting in, to be honest."  
   
"I'm sorry," Seunghyun reiterates. He'd say it on repeat for the rest of the night if it could erase what he's done, an endless apology to wipe clean the memory of his blunder.  
   
"How much do you hate me right now?" He can't handle it when they're upset with him.  
   
To his surprise, that gets a smile out of them all.  
   
"Hyung, we don't hate you," Seungri and Daesung say at nearly the same time, their voices melding together.  
   
"If a little temper tantrum was all it took to break us up--"  
   
"And a mean right hook," Youngbae adds, rubbing at a sore spot on his jaw.  
   
And there's Jiyong with that lopsided grin of his again, "--we'd never have made it this far."  
   
Seunghyun cracks a grin at that but it doesn't last, falling off his face as quickly as it came when he turns to Daesung.  
   
"Who else knows? Your manager?"  
   
"No... not yet. Just the four of you for now."  
   
"Your parents?"  
   
Daesung's face goes white. "Soon."  
   
"Think they'll really be all that surprised?" Youngbae muses. "I mean, for a cat hybrid this isn't exactly..."

 _Unexpected_ , Seunghyun thinks, and the though it a sour one. There are people out there who've been speculating-- no, _waiting_ for this happen, wondering just how much longer it would be before Daesung slips up and succumbs to the curse of his kind: that insatiable appetite at the height of his quarterly heats, seeking out sex where he can find it, his body begging to be opened, filled, _bred_. Seunghyun and the others have done what they could to keep him satisfied, to keep him _safe_ , all while keeping it secret, but... now it's gone and blown up in their faces.

And it'll blow up even more once the media gets its grubby hands on it, spreading the news far and wide and surely too fast to contain, like wildfire.  
   
"I know," Daesung says, fingers plucking nervously at the rips in his jeans. "I just thought if we were careful enough..."  
   
"At least see a doctor first? Before telling Hyun Suk," Jiyong says. "Just to be sure. It'll be like dropping a bombshell, but I can help you break the news to him if it'll help."  
   
"Yeah. That would be..." Daesung says hollowly. "That would actually be really great. Thanks. Thank you."  
   
Then Seunghyun asks the question he's sure they're all dying to know. Because someone has to, and he's already trashed his dignity once tonight, what's it matter if he drags it through the mud it a little more?  
   
"So have you thought about what you're going to do?" he needs to know. "Are you gonna, I don’t know... keep it?"  
   
Daesung falls very still. An unbearably long silence follows.  
   
"I don't know," he eventually says. "I... haven't thought that far ahead."  
   
Seunghyun doesn't believe that for a second.  
   
"You have options."  
   
All eyes turn to him at once, like little coals burning holes into him. Daesung's burn hottest of them all.  
   
"I'm just saying," he says, steeling himself for what comes next. "You don't have to... You know."  
   
What the fuck is he even saying? It's not his place to suggest... _that_. It's not his place to suggest anything.  
   
It's just like Jiyong said. This isn't his problem, not really. But the longer he sticks around, the longer he stays here and stays involved, the more it feels like it is.  
   
Anyway, he already knows how Daesung feels about those _options_. And he thinks he knows him well enough to predict, with reasonable confidence, that he won't take them.  
   
Which begs the question: what's going to happen to them? They'd promised him Big Bang was fine, that they weren't splitting up, no way no how, but they've got months of activities ahead of them. Will Daesung be able to finish out the tour?  
   
Probably not. Definitely not. Eight more months of concerts, interviews, photoshoots, and music show appearances is no sort of schedule for someone who's expecting. Daesung will have to drop out at some point. Will have to disappear from the public eye for a time, take a break from band activities, keep a low profile-- well, low _er_.  
   
At least until...  
   
Until when? Until he has the child and-- then what? What if Daesung decides that's it for him? Seunghyun doesn't know how he'll cope if what begins as a temporary leave of absence becomes permanent.  
   
And there it is, a sharp sting and his vision blurs, his fiery anger resurfacing in the form of tears. And with them, the return of that damn headache.  
   
"Nevermind," he says quickly, wiping at his eyes, because what's the point of trying to hide anything anymore? These people are no stranger to his tears.  
   
Normally, Daesung would be sidling up him now, cooing over him and calling him a baby. _Our big brother and our baby_ , he'd say, his smile sweet as sugar, hand slipping into his and holding tight, _baby, don't cry_ \--  
   
And Seunghyun would let him, wouldn't even be mad, because if anyone can call him _baby_ and get away with it, it's Daesung.  
   
It's time for him to go.  
   
"I'm glad you told me. About all of this. I am, thank you. But--" He pinches the bridge of his nose and shakes his head, trying to ward off the worst of the tears. All it does is make the pounding in his head worse. The other watch him expectantly, waiting.  
   
"I have to go," he forces out. "We'll talk more later. I'm sorry."  
   
They rise to meet him--  
   
"Hyung, wait! Don't go--"  
   
\--but he's gone, slipping through the door and slamming it shut behind him before anyone gets close enough to do something stupid, like try to stop him... again.

 

 

\--

 

 

The warm air of a summer night does little to cool his hot head, and the tears burn trails down his cheeks as they fall, but at least it's dark. The cover of night means no one has to put up with his ugly crying face.  
   
Seunghyun is a few steps from the street when his tall ears twist back, detecting footsteps behind him, a familiar gait fast approaching.  
   
That familiarity is the only thing that stops him from jerking away when a hand slips into his, effortlessly enough that he knows right away who's come after him.  
   
" _Hyung!_ "  
   
He never wants to hurt any of them, but this one least of all.  
   
"Don't be mad at me. Please," Daesung says, just this side of breathless, like he'd done more than a quick sprint to the curb from his front door.  
   
"I'm not mad at _you_ ," Seunghyun replies automatically. "I'm not mad at any of you, actually. Just... frustrated."  
   
He hangs his head. "Frustrated" doesn't even come close to conveying how he really feels about this, but when he reaches for the right words they come out all wrong. It's not frustration that's got him lashing out, it's hurt. He's hurting. He's in such pain. In full-on fucking agony.  
   
"Don't cry, hyung. Don't cry," Daesung says, reaching for his face.  
   
"I'm-- I'm not--"  
   
"I'll cry too!" Daesung whines, and is that a quiver in his voice?  
   
Seunghyun chokes out a laugh and beats him to it, a cursory palm smoothed across each cheek and he's good, a step closer to okay now that Daesung's here, just the twof them, the flow of tears drying up faster than he thought possible.  
   
"No you won't, don't lie," he says with a gentle shake of his head. Daesung isn't really the type, and that's alright; Seunghyun is pretty sure he sheds enough tears for the both of them. "I'm the crybaby, remember?"  
   
"I _feel_ like crying."  
   
"And yet you're not." Carefully, he turns and brings their joined hands in close, lifting and touching them lightly to his chest, right over his thundering heart.  
   
"I just thought..."  
   
It pounds through his chest like a bass drum, and he wonders if the bit of Daesung that resides in there has decided to play it like that drumset of his he so loves.  
   
"I wanted..."  
   
" _I know_." The hand in his squeezes, hard enough that it has Seunghyun wincing in pain. He stops, surprised, whatever he was about to reveal shrinking away and retreating back inside him to come to light another day.  
   
He changes gears.  
   
"I'm so fucking sorry for being such an ass back there," he growls, his tight throat crushing and mangling his voice into something harsh. "This isn't even about me anyway. What about _you_? Don't try to tell me you haven't thought about it, you have."  
   
Daesung drops his eyes to the ground. He worries at his lip while the pointed ears atop his head twist this way and that in uncertainty. "I really don't know, hyung. It's too soon."  
   
"You're right. It's still--" Well, not _early_ , but... there might be time. God, what does he know about any of this? "It might not be too late."  
   
Daesung is standing at a crossroads, the way before him branching in several directions. They both are. Seunghyun's feet are planted in the sand beside him, and he'll follow Daesung stubbornly down whichever path he chooses. Which will he take?  
   
"It's not allowed," Daesung mumbles, eyes downcast.  
   
"Doesn't mean anything when people do it all the time," Seunghyun counters. "Plus we have resources, resources that most don't. You can go anywhere in the world."  
   
"You make it sound so easy," Daesung says, and-- _damn_ , deja vu.  
   
"It could be. No one would have to know."  
   
"But what if someone did? I can't take that risk. If news of it ever got out..."  
   
Seunghyun knows where he's going with this. He's still battling the backlash from an accident that took place six years ago and shook him to the core. An _accident_. And it's been an uphill battle ever since. Seeking out a secret abortion-- or any abortion at all-- is looking less attractive by the minute.  
   
"It would mean the end of my career. There'd be no recovering from something like that."  
   
_**This** could mean the end your career_ , Seunghyun thinks. Sleeping with his bandmates? Having a child out of wedlock? Daesung will be laying low for awhile, and running damage control for even longer.  
   
"Besides..." Daesung tugs his hand away. Seunghyun feels the loss keenly. "That's if I even wanted to. You know how I feel about... that."  
   
Seunghyun feels like he deflates, slouching where he stands. He does know. He's known all along. And no amount of reasoning with him-- or, if Seunghyun would stoop so low, _pleading_ with him-- will deter Daesung from doing what he feels is right.  
   
He turns back to the street.  
   
"Tell the others I'm sorry. For blowing up at them, for being a complete dick. I completely lost it."  
   
"You're really going?"  
   
"Well, I'm not going _back_." He can't face them. Standing here with Daesung, talking with him, _touching_ him, is hard enough.  
   
A gentle hand on his arm turns him, guides him in just a fraction. But it's enough. Seunghyun lets himself be drawn in just as the others had been earlier that night, the attraction impossible to resist, like moths unto a flame.  
   
"Now I know why," he murmurs and tilts into Daesung until their lips brush.  
   
"Huh?"  
   
"Was wondering why they were all fawning over you on our way in. Timing didn't seem right," Seunghyun says in a corner of his lip. "I get it now."  
   
"They're scared too, you know. I think it's just easier for them to play along until we know for sure, to think that it could be thei--"  
   
Seunghyun stops him right there, covering his mouth with his own and cutting him off.  
   
After that Daesung stands quiet and mostly still, hands on his arms as he returns his soft kisses, and for a short time it seems to ease the ache.  
   
Until Seunghyun realizes it's not easing but _evolving_ , the ache of jealousy and betrayal morphing fluidly into one of longing. Not any better, really, just different.  
   
His first contact since coming back. First _taste_. Feels like he's been sober for months. All it's taken is a few small sips and already he's addicted again, needing more, always more.  
   
His hand on Daesung's hip, thumbing at the waistband of his jeans, itches to reacquaint itself with the rest of him. He thinks of sliding it around to his front, suddenly more aware than ever of his vulnerable belly, a soft expanse of skin under an even softer t-shirt two sizes too big for him. What would happen if he placed his palm there? Would it feel different? Would he feel... _something_ , if he moved over just the right spot?  
   
Would something _move back_?  
   
He snatches back his hand, chickening out at the last possible second. He isn't ready to find out firsthand.  
   
"Are you showing yet?" he asks instead.  
   
"No, but that's pretty normal. Omega men don't show until later, especially if we're fit. Which I like to think I am," Daesung says, and Seunghyun knows he's smiling by the feel of lips curving against his. "I've heard stories of guys not knowing until right before the baby is due. Crazy!" Daesung draws back. "Also terrifying."  
   
"Surprise," Seunghyun rumbles, and ducks to take his lips again, but this time Daesung pulls back.  
   
"Will you be okay? Maybe you should stay. You've been drinking..."  
   
"And you have not," he says, cutely. Daesung gives him an odd look.  
   
"Guest room's open," Daesung offers. "You can go home in the morning. Or afternoon. Sleep in if you want."  
   
Seunghyun doesn't want to stay in the guest room.  
   
"I appreciate you making excuses for me, but I should go before I embarrass myself further," he huffs. "And anyway, it's not like I'm driving. I'll call a cab."  
   
They slide apart, Seunghyun shuffling away to put some space between them, much needed but not really wanted. To his disappointment, Daesung lets him go.  
   
"If you really have to go..."  
   
"I _can't_ stay," Seunghyun insists, putting emphasis on the can't. He thinks of Jiyong, Youngbae, and Seungri inside, waiting around for one or both of them to come back. He hopes they won't be too hurt when Daesung walks back through that front door alone.  
   
He'd missed them so dearly while he was away. Now that he's here he can't stand to be near them.  
   
This was never his plan. His vision for their future, however hazy it was, darkening, fading to black.  
   
"Go back inside," he says at the exact same moment as Daesung says, "I'll wait here with you."  
   
Seunghyun fumbles with his phone, pulling it from his pocket.  
   
"Suit yourself."  
   
The light from his phone's screen is blinding in the dark and reminds him that he never took care of that headache. It sits, crouched like a leopard in the back of his skull, camouflaged and waiting for the perfect moment to sink its fangs back into him. He lifts it to his ear and pretends not to notice Daesung's eyes on his back as he relays the address to the driver. His eyes, or the suffocating silence between them.  
   
Then they wait.  
   
He doesn't look at Daesung as he climbs into the car, but he knows he's watching, his tangible concern following Seunghyun all the way down the road until the cab turns a corner, and the thread connecting them snaps.

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

 

Later that week Seunghyun wakes to a string of messages in their group chat, one after another in rapid succession. They'd rolled in after midnight, long after Seunghyun had called it a day and passed out in bed with bottle in hand. It's late morning now, and the sunlight blazing through the gap in his bedroom curtains is searing a strip right across his eyes, as if to spite him.  
  
"F'ck you, sun," he groans into his pillow, giving it the finger.  
  
It's like the sun itself is punishing him for his binge drinking the night before. And the night before that. And the night before _that_ , going all the way back to that one godawful night when--  
  
He feels along the covers with clumsy fingers, wondering if the bottle he'd brought to bed with him had survived the night, if there's anything left in it. His hand knocks into something solid, something smooth and cold and rolling away from him, _no, don't go_ \--  
  
It hits the hardwood floor with a hollow sound. Drained dry, then.  
  
_Fuck it_ , he thinks, rolling onto his back. What's Daesung got to say, anyway? He holds his phone over him and squints up at it, using his thumb to scroll to the first of Daesung's many messages.  
  
_Hey guys. Sorry for writing so late. I hope this doesn't wake anyone up._  
  
_Not a chance_ , Seunghyun thinks with a wry grin. He'd drunk himself into oblivion. A herd of elephants stampeding through his room wouldn't have been enough to wake him.  
  
_Saw a doctor today. Got some good news. Still don't know what's going on with my heats, doc thinks it's just stress, but the important thing is I'm not actually... you know. Pregnant._  
  
Seunghyun bolts upright, heart lurching, stomach clenching... head spinning. Still a little buzzed, then.  
  
"Are you fucking kidding me?" he croaks. All of this was just a _false alarm?_  
  
_The at-home tests were wrong_ , Daesung has written, and all Seunghyun can think is _I was right._  
  
_False positives_ , Daesung continues. _Something about not being meant for cat types? I read the labels before buying but they didn't say anything about that, so..._  
  
"Or maybe you just missed it," Seunghyun says sadly, picturing how Daesung must have been quietly panicking as he'd scanned the back of one box after another. Just thinking about him alone in the familiy planning aisle, torn over which test he should trust to tell him what he needed to know, hurts his wine-soaked heart.  
  
_Anyway, I'm so so so sorry, you guys. For scaring you like that. I freaked out. I should've waited until I was absolutely sure, beyond a doubt. I've learned my lesson._  
  
"Yeah, well. You and me both." Seunghyun rakes a hand through his hair and over his furred ears, willing himself to think through the fog of last night's liquor. He'd freaked out and scared everyone too. Just in a different way.  
  
_But you stuck with me and... it means the world. Thank you. I love you all. I'll be more careful from now on_ , Daesung concludes.  
  
Seunghyun frowns down at that last line: _I'll be more careful_. Typical Daesung, blaming himself and only himself. A part of Seunghyun wishes he could reach through the screen and grab him, take him by the scruff and shake him until he remembers that he's no virgin Mary with her immaculate conception. _It takes two._  
  
"Stop acting like this whole shitstorm was all your fault," he grumbles into the emptiness of his bedroom, growing indignation warring with overwhelming relief.  
  
In his and Daesung's private chat he finds another series of messages waiting for him. He opens it with equal parts hope and dread.  
  
_Hyung. I know this has been so hard for you. I can't apologize enough... I can't._  
  
The timestamp shows a long gap, a span of silence between that first message and the next.  
  
_I didn't want to upset you. And I still don't... But this whole thing has got me thinking._  
  
Seunghyun's teeth are grinding before he knows it, his jaw tight. He's building up to something, something Seunghyun suspects he won't want to hear.  
  
_Maybe I should do the heat thing alone for a while. Go it solo. You know how it makes us lose our heads. It's so fucking good but... There's too much at stake right now. For all of us._  
  
Seunghyun wonders which of his vintages he'll try next. Maybe he'll just drink the hangover away. Maybe the entire day. He's got nowhere to be, why not? Who's stopping him?  
  
_It'll suck but I can do it. At least until we're done touring and promoting like crazy._  
  
_Which is a long fucking time_ , Seunghyun thinks bitterly. Minus a few short breaks in between, they're booked solid until the end of the year. And he's trying his best not to think about what comes after, enlistment looming large and inevitable.  
  
But Daesung doesn't owe him anything, he sometimes has to remind himself. The dangers of getting too comfortable, too close.  
  
_After that... I don't know_ , Daesung continues. _We'll figure it out._  
  
Seunghyun drops his phone back to the bed, but not before muting it first.  
  
_Will we?_ he wonders, pulling the covers up and over his head to block out the sun along with everything else. He isn’t strong enough-- fuck that, isn't _sober_ enough to deal just yet, and it's too early for this anyway, this rollercoaster of emotion.  
  
As the city streets below come alive with the bustle of early morning traffic, he waits for sleep to take him back. Waits for Daesung to take him back.  
  
He doesn't know what he'll do if he won't.

 

 

 


End file.
